A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love
by AJCrane
Summary: A week after Peter has been fostered at the Blaisdell's Questions continue to surface and anger still boils deep within Peter's heart. That anger is rekindled from nightmares and taunting. Peter decides to fulfill the vow that he swore on his father's grave three years ago, but a secret is revealed that could destroy his new relationship with the Blaisdells.
1. Chapter 1

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Prologue

Peter Caine sat up in bed from the nightmare that ravaged his mind. Sweat formed on his brow and his breath came in gasps as he tried to take in air as if he was suffocating. The nightmare still plagued him after three years. Would it never end?

Over and over the image of his father seen from an opening came to him. Debris rained down on Peter and then he saw no more. Words of the traitorous Master Dao days earlier ran through the corridors of his mind . . .

"You and your father will not usurp my place. I am the weapons master. Your father's views are those of a coward. The world is a cruel place and only the strong will survive."

"My father says that to survive one must be like water."

"Water is weak boy. Your father will soon learn what power really is. I shall be Master of this temple then all will learn my ways. There will be no more coddling. All those who are weak will pay the price."

The cruelty in Master Dao's eyes frightened Peter.

"I . . . I need to get to class," Peter stammered.

"Remember my words boy. There is no love for your father. He will fall."

Peter bit back a retort, knowing that if he were to say something, the weapon's master would once again strike him as he had when Caine had been away for several days. When Caine returned Peter had sported a very deep bruise across a portion of his face. When his father questioned him, Peter replied that it had happened in class, but had not given a complete explanation. Caine did not question him further on the subject. Peter had never told his father that Master Dao had threatened his father's life and his if Peter was to say anything. It was the first time that Peter had held anything back from his father and the beginning of Peter's troubling behavior . . .

When Peter returned from his memories, the one memory of the vow that he had made at his father's gravesite remained. He had not fulfilled that vow as promised. He had not been able to because Master Ping Hai had sent him away. Peter was not able to go with the rest of the surviving children. Most had to be returned to their parents, some still living in China. It was a bitter and sad day for all. Now he was fostered to a man with two daughters and a blind wife. He still did not understand why Paul Blaisdell cared about him, why he took him in. Maybe it was just pity that the man felt, pity for the angry orphaned boy who could never be what his real father wanted.

The more Peter thought about his situation, the more he realized that perhaps this was the best thing that could happen to him. He was out of the orphanage and perhaps he now had a chance to fulfill a vow that he should have fulfilled three years ago. It would not be an easy thing to accomplish. The men who shot and killed his friends and his sifus had been masked. Only Master Dao showed his face, fighting his father for supremacy of the temple, killing all those he thought were weak.

Peter recalled hearing one of the other monks talking about how he witnessed Caine kicking Master Dao hard into a rack of candles. Dao's face had been burned, but he had not seen what had happened after that. An explosion had ensued. The monk had been hit from behind by falling debris. He had not seen what had happened to Peter's father. By the time he had come to, the monk was outside and the temple was ablaze with fire. He did not even remember how he had escaped.

Those memories filled his every being and the hate for what Master Dao had done rose to the surface. He had buried that hate at the orphanage, but now it rose in him once again fighting for supremacy, just as Master Dao had fought his father for the temple. His task would be daunting, but Peter had to find a way to fulfill that vow, even if it would mean leaving the Blaisdell home for good.

Continues with Part 1


	2. Chapter 2

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Part 1

"Have you seen Peter?" Kelly asked. "I wanted to show him something."

"Isn't he in his room?" Annie asked back.

"No, I can't find him anywhere."

"Maybe he's doing some exploring of the neighborhood. You know he's only been here for a week. It's going to take him time getting used to everything."

"I guess so," Kelly frowned, disappointed that her new big brother wasn't around to play with.

"Don't worry sweetie," Annie placed a hand on Kelly's cheek. "Peter will be playing with you soon enough. I am certain some of this is just overwhelming for him. Give him time to get used to us."

"Okay," Kelly said as she left the kitchen, then briefly stopping near the door she added, "Maybe I'll make a card for Peter, you know to tell him everything's going to be okay."

"That's a good idea. I think he would like that."

Annie left the kitchen and made her way toward the upstairs and toward the bedrooms. It was now spring and it was her usual task to open the windows to allow some fresh air into the house. Her children were off from school, spring break as it was called. It would not be long before summer. As Annie opened the windows she heard voices coming from the back yard. One of the voices she recognized as a neighbor kid, the other was her newly fostered son. She was pleased to hear that Peter was making new friends. It would make the transition much easier. Annie turned from the window to resume putting away the laundry.

"I heard from my old man that Blaisdell was adopting a kid from the orphanage and that he was part chink. So I came over to see for myself. Is that you? We don't want some chink kid in our neighborhood."

"First of all, my name's Caine not Blaisdell. Paul Blaisdell's my foster father. And I'm part Chinese, not a chink."

"Caine. What kind of Chinese name is that? I bet your old man just abandoned you."

"My father didn't abandon me!" Peter yelled back. "He . . . he was . . ."

"Go ahead say it. I bet you can't."

"My father would never abandon me," Peter said quietly, hatred smoldered under the surface. "He . . . He was killed." Thoughts not voiced ran through his head, the very vow that he had made at his father's gravesite, rekindling the hatred for those who murdered his father.

"Hey, man. I didn't mean to upset you," the kid tried to back off, scared at what he saw in the eyes of Blaisdell's foster son.

"Yes, you did," Peter stated as a matter of fact. "You called me a chink. You came over here to see a Chinese kid because you don't want a Chinese kid living in your neighborhood. If you have nothing else better to do, then leave."

"You can't tell me what to do," the other boy rankled back. "You're nothing but some pity case that cop took in."

"You know nothing!" Peter shouted back. Then halted his argument. Why did Paul Blaisdell insist on fostering him? Just because he took an interest in the lecture Blaisdell had given didn't mean he had to take him in, and now this kid was hassling him. Conflicting feelings rose within Peter. Did Paul Blaisdell pity him? Why was he defending his foster father? "If you don't have anything better to do, go home."

Peter turned his back on the neighbor kid and started to walk toward the house when the kid grabbed his shoulder. Peter spun around and was quickly away from the kid's grasp. "Don't touch me."

"So, the chink doesn't like to be touched. What're you going to do? You going to do some karate moves on me like Bruce Lee?" The kid then came up to Peter and shoved him hard. "Take your best shot." The kid kept shoving Peter until Peter suddenly drove in, grabbed the kid by the shoulder with his head down, and kicking him in the groin. The kid doubled over and fell to the ground.

"Is that good enough for you?" Peter then turned his back and walked into the house.

"Peter? What was all that shouting I heard?" Annie called down to her foster son.

"It was nothing," Peter stated then went to his room.

Annie grew silent allowing her new foster son to have his privacy. She could hear the anger in his voice. Something was going on. If only Peter would allow her into his world. She knew it was going to take time. She would just have to be patient.

Continues with Part 2


	3. Chapter 3

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Part 2

Paul Blaisdell came home to spend his lunch hour with his wife and children. He started doing it again when Peter became a part of the family. He felt it was a way for them to get acquainted and to show how much he cared about the boy.

As Paul waited for Annie to complete the sandwich she was making, the telephone rang.

"Hello," Paul answered. "Oh, hello Mrs. Carson. Yes, we do. He did what? Are you sure? I'll talk to him, see what's going on. Okay, thank you." He hung up the phone and sighed.

"Paul, what is it?" Annie could hear in her husband's voice that something was amiss.

"That was Mrs. Carson. She said that Peter beat up her son for no reason. Could you please send Peter to my study. I'll have my sandwich in there."

Annie handed the plate to her husband and listened to his footsteps as he crossed the wooden floor through the dining area. There was weariness in those steps. Something else was going on that she was not privy to, and it would seem that it involved Peter.

Paul closed the door to his study and sat down at his desk. He placed the plate on a stack of growing files that he had taken from the office to examine. His police captain was insistent about getting these particular cases closed. They had been on the books for a long time, some of them for several months. Paul was working on his third bite of sandwich when there was a gentle knock on his study door.

"Come in."

Peter poked his head into the study. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, come in Peter and shut the door."

Peter came in but continued to stand by the doorway as if hoping for an escape.

"Please sit down."

"Am I in trouble?" Peter asked as he took a seat next to Paul's desk.

"Well that depends," Paul took another bite from his sandwich and waited until that bite had been completed to start their conversation. "I got a phone call from Mrs. Carson. She said that her son had told her that you beat him up for no reason. I want to hear the story from you."

Peter chewed the bottom of his lip. "I . . . I . . ."

"Go on."

"This kid came over and started hassling me. He said some things that made me mad."

"What kinds of things?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Peter stated and slumped down in the large chair.

"Peter, in this household we keep no secrets," Paul stated. "And when someone is in trouble we talk over what it is and try to reach a solution. You were accused of beating up a neighbor kid for no reason. I am only trying to establish the facts before judgement can be passed. If you will not answer to me, you're going to have to answer to someone."

"My father wouldn't force me into talking if I didn't want to."

"Your father is not here Peter, I am. That life that you had, whatever it was like, is gone. You need to face up to that fact."

Peter turned his head away, trying to hide the anger and tears that threatened to spill.

"Peter talk to me, not as a foster father, but as a friend."

Peter continued to hold his tongue and remain silent.

"Very well," Paul stated. "Since you will not tell me what happened, I'm going to have to pass judgement from only hearing one side of the story. Maybe it will teach you that justice comes at a price. You are grounded for one week. No television . . . "

"Paul, that's not fair . . ."

"I'm not through. You are to stay in the yard. If you have to go somewhere, you get permission first and you go where you say you are going. Unless you are willing to tell me what happened, the punishment stands and you will accompany your mother and I over to Mrs. Carson's tonight to apologize."

"But I didn't . . ."

"Don't tell me you did nothing wrong in this. Obviously something happened. But until you are willing to tell me, you are grounded. And if I find out you didn't follow any of the rules, the punishment will be extended another week."

"Yes, sir," Peter said defeated. "Can I go now?"

"You may go."

Paul watched his foster son leave the study. He knew Peter was holding back on what had happened. The comment about his father not forcing him to talk when he didn't want to was a deliberate jibe to remind him that he was not Peter's father. Why Peter would use such tactics was beyond him. It was obvious the boy was putting up barriers, not letting anyone in, including Annie. Granted it had only been a week since Peter had come to live with them, but it already felt like an eternity had gone by.

The social worker had warned that Peter was going to be a difficult child. He had been sent to Pineridge for fighting and refusing to explain why. Had they tried to force the issue as well? What would cause a child like Peter Caine to have so much anger at the world? Though there were small notes that suggested that Peter wasn't really a bad kid, other notes hinted that there was some deep-rooted trauma that only Peter could reveal. All that had been reported in Peter's file was that his mother died when he was two, and his father was raising him under some unusual circumstances, the file would not reveal anything more. How Peter came to be orphaned was still unclear. All that had been written in the file was that his father had died in a fire when Peter was nearly thirteen. When Paul asked about the fire, the social worker indicated that the file had been sealed and would not reveal anything more.

Paul turned toward the door that his foster son had exited.

"Peter, I know something happened in your past that is causing you anguish. I hope some day, you'll trust us enough to tell us what that is."

Continues with Part 3


	4. Chapter 4

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Part 3

Once out of Paul Blaisdell's study, Peter raced off to the outside and headed for the wooded area out behind the Blaisdell home. Why didn't he tell Paul what had happened? Why did he hold back? He argued with himself, saying that Paul would only pity him more, if he knew what actually happened.

'He'd probably send me back if he knew.' He thought to himself.

'Maybe Paul could help you find the guys that murdered Pop?' One side argued.

'No! I am a Caine. My great-grandfather would not allow something like this to continue. He would seek out those who would do his family harm. He did once. And if he did, I can.'

'But where will you go?' the other side argued once again.

'Home!'

The argument ended there. He would return to the temple and find what clues he could. He would talk to the people of Braniff, especially its Mayor. He had been a monk and would understand. Then he thought of another monk, a monk who admired his father and loved old Ping Hai. Brother Lowery had been kind and understanding. He had been able to do something that not all of the monks were capable of doing. He had been able to humiliate Vance Cavanaugh. Maybe if he could find Brother Lowery, he might be able to help him. Then there was Master Kahn, the weapons master who took over from Master Dao before that fateful day. Master Kahn had been another monk that Peter could turn to when he needed advice. Where was Master Kahn now?

Too many unanswered questions and too many friends gone, gone and split from a destroyed home that could never be, again. Peter broke down at that moment and cried out his anguish in the grove of trees that had become his second secret place. Peter discovered this place shortly after the Blaisdells fostered him in their home, the day after to be exact. He had explored the property and found this hidden grove, out of sight from the house, but not out of earshot. The birds and the sounds of nature drew him to this place. It reminded him of when he and his father would take walks in the wooded area that surrounded the temple. It was a place of refuge to hide from the world until he was ready to face that world again.

It was two hours before Peter crawled from his hiding place and headed back to the house. He was surprised that Paul hadn't come after him. Of course, if he had, Paul would learn about his secret place and Peter did not want that happening. It might thwart his plans that Peter needed to put into action.

Peter thought about the punishment that Paul had decreed. It really wasn't much of a punishment to have to face. At the temple there was no television set. It really wasn't something that Peter watched much of anyway, except maybe Starsky and Hutch, and that show was no longer on the air. Even in the orphanage Peter didn't get to watch much television having to catch up on what was being taught in the regular public schools since the education that Peter had received in the temple had been rather unique.

So, missing television for a week really didn't matter to Peter, it was the fact that he was being punished for something he had not done that angered him. He had merely defended himself, something that he had been taught to do since as far back as he could remember. If he had told Paul the truth, maybe it would not have been so bad, but he had held back, uncertain as to what was going to happen if he had. With this punishment in place, it was going to be difficult for him to leave without causing more problems. Then again, this could be the perfect time to do some research and discover the whereabouts of those whom he wanted to find.

The vow would still be there, it was just going to take a little longer to carry it out.

Continues with Part 4


	5. Chapter 5

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Part 4

Three weeks came and went. Peter had been called into the local school board after being tested to see what grade level he was to be placed. The local school board took an interest in learning all they could about Peter Caine's education. They never heard of a monastery offering an education to young boys. It sounded suspiciously like some kind of cult and the thought of young boys among older males with no females present smacked of possible child abuse and molestation. Many of the questions that were put to Peter were probing and the young man started to fidget in his chair, especially when it came to questions regarding his father.

"Did your father ever touch you in ways that made you uncomfortable?" one woman asked.

"In what way?" Peter asked back.

The question that Peter threw at the woman caused a momentary pause. She then tried to ask the question again, this time choosing her words more carefully. "Did your father ever touch you . . . you know . . . in an obscene manner?"

Peter stared at the woman; a blank expression was on his face. What was this woman asking him? That his father would . . . Shaking his head, Peter tried to remove the images from his mind.

"My father never did anything like that," Peter answered. "My father was a Shaolin Priest."

"What is a Shaolin Priest?" Another person questioned.

"Sounds like some kind of cult to me," a third stated under his breath.

Peter's mouth became a hard line, and his eyes became narrow. "You don't know anything. A Shaolin protects those who cannot protect themselves."

"Take it easy, Son," the principle of the school board stated. "We just want to get to the truth."

"The truth? You don't want to know the truth. And don't call me son."

"Peter," Paul came in at that moment. "What's going on here?"

"Paul, they're trying to accuse my father of abusing me."

"I'm Peter's foster-father. You have no right to question him about his past relationship with his father."

"Mr. Blaisdell . . ."

"That's Lieutenant Blaisdell of the Metro Police."

"Yes, whatever," the principle did not seem impressed. "Look, the kid's background sounded . . . well . . . suspicious. We're just trying to determine if there was any wrong doing . . ."

"I know what you were asking," Paul stated. "I had been standing there for the past ten minutes observing. I have to admit his background is unusual, but that does not mean that there was anything going on that you described."

"Well what would you call it?" the principle questioned. "Young boys entering a monastery full of men and no women present, hey come on we know what's really going on."

"To be ignorant of the facts is one thing. To take ignorance as fact is evil," Peter stated.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know," Paul stated. "Come on Peter."

"Wait. Let me explain, Lieutenant Blaisdell. We've tried asking the boy what happened. By the scores on his GATs he's lacking in a lot of areas. His American History is poor. His math is strong. His science is weak. And there are other areas that are also lacking. His understanding of Social Studies and Geography . . ."

"The test makes no sense to me. I didn't study those things at the temple," Peter stated. "And I was already tested when I entered the orphanage."

The principle continued as if he had not heard Peter, "With the kind of scores that is listed here, I assumed we had a mentally handicap kid we were going to deal with. So asking Peter in for an interview was the most logical step."

"Did you take a look at his scores when he entered the orphanage? He had been tested then as well."

"Well, no."

"Believe me, his scores were a lot worse. I saw them. But that was early on when he first arrived. He had not been tested since," Paul stated.

"His scores are not the issue here. After meeting the boy, I realized he is an intelligent kid, but his scores suggest there was another underlying problem. Some children score low on exams because they have low self-esteem or they are having problems at home. Abused children are among those who especially have lower scores, even though they are very bright kids."

"Peter's father did not abuse him," Paul Blaisdell stated. "Peter's education was different than the rest of the general public."

"Oh, come off it officer," another member of the school board spoke up. "How would you know what went on in a monastery filled with young boys and men?"

"Because I've been to a Shaolin temple," Paul answered.

Continues with Part 5


	6. Chapter 6

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Part 5

Peter's head turned toward his foster-father in surprise. He was about to ask Paul about his experience when one of the school board members continued to question Paul.

"Okay, so tell us, what goes on in these so called temples."

"Let's just say I was there for my own reasons a few years ago."

"How long did you stay at this temple?"

"I was there long enough to learn," Paul stated, though he did his best to evade the issue.

"While you were there, did you see anything . . . suspicious?"

"Do you mean did I see anyone abuse any of the children?" Paul rephrased the question. "No, I did not."

"Well maybe they hid it from you because you were a stranger."

"Let's just say the experience wasn't what I expected when I attended. It surprised even me."

Paul did not reveal to the school board that he had been told that the temple was a place where students were learning terrorist tactics, even though he learned the truth that night. That was not his privilege to reveal.

A quick flash of memories flooded through him as he saw faces of robed men and children broken and bleeding. He was the last to enter, and when he did, it was not what he had been told as to what had been going on. He had been deceived. The flash of memory ended and he caught Peter staring at him with the corner of his eye.

"Perhaps, you can tell us what happened at Peter's temple."

"I can't."

"Or won't."

"The records were sealed. All that was known was that Peter's father was killed from a fire at the temple. How that fire was started was not revealed. And you have no business asking the boy. All we need to know is whether Peter will be entering High School."

"Well, his test scores don't preclude him from entering, but he's going to have to make up a lot of ground. I can't enter him as a freshman this year. It's far too late in the school year. He can however, make up the time by going to some special classes."

"And if he tests well in those classes?" Paul asked.

"He may enter his freshman year."

"But that means I'll be behind everyone else," Peter spoke up after having been the subject of the discussion for so long. "They were having me take special classes when I entered the orphanage. That's got to account for something."

"Peter, your scores are still too low in certain areas. Now we've spoken to your teachers at the orphanage and they tell us that you are very bright, but you are still behind in some areas. After you take these, we'll test you again and see if things have changed. There is also summer school."

Peter's heart sank. How was he going to fulfill his vow now if he was expected to take classes that required him to be present?

"When do these classes start?" Paul asked.

"The classes run in four week cycles. The next class won't begin for another week. There is a teacher conference coming up and there won't be anyone to teach the class."

One week! That didn't give Peter much time. The vow that Peter had made needed to be fulfilled if he was ever going to feel like getting on with his life. There had been just too many distractions and obstacles that have prevented him from doing what he needed to do. Still, hearing that Paul had been in a Shaolin temple disturbed the teen. It sounded like Paul had been there, at his temple. He wanted to know just what it was that Paul Blaisdell knew.

Continues with Part 6


	7. Chapter 7

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Part 6

Later that night Peter had thought on what Paul had said at the meeting of the school board. Paul's words came flooding back.

"Let's just say I was there for my own reasons a few years ago."

Paul had been there. Some how Paul had been involved, otherwise he would not have said what he did. Could he have been one of the men that attacked his temple home? Peter shook his head in denial, not wanting to believe that Paul had been involved, perhaps even had been one of the men who shot and murdered many of his friends and sifus. It was unthinkable, and yet, Paul had singled him out, why?

Peter had to know the truth, and he knew only one way to get it.

Paul entered his darken study and sat behind his old desk. He took out his key chain and selected a small insignificant key, the kind that looked more like a charm for a girl's bracelet than an actual key for a lock. He placed the key in a small hole in the bottom left drawer of his desk. That particular drawer was always kept locked. It contained certain files that only Paul and a few others knew about, and it also contained the truth.

Paul pulled out the thick brown folder and placed it on his desk, not opening it. This was his own private folder, not the one he was shown by the social worker. He had not looked at this file for several weeks everything he had ever found out about the temple in Braniff, California was in that file. After what was said today, Paul knew Peter would confront him, but did he have the courage to tell Peter the truth.

Then a noise, soft and subtle reached Paul's ears. Someone else was in his study.

"Who's there?" Paul called out and slowly placed a hand on the gun that also rested in the bottom of the drawer. He did not pull it out but kept his hand on the trigger ready to react at whomever it was that hid in the shadows.

The person moved forward, silent as a cat, dressed in an old gray gi. The odor of smoke still clung to the fabric. Paul recognized the face, but kept his eye on what that person had in their hands.

"Peter, what are you doing up so late?"

Peter slowly approached Paul's desk without saying a word.

Paul could see the hatred and pain in Peter's eyes. This young man knew at least part of the truth. It was time to reveal the rest before someone was seriously hurt, and Paul knew it would not be him.

"Peter, let me explain . . ."

"You were there," Peter interrupted. "You knew and you didn't say anything. Why did you foster me? To finish the job that Master Dao didn't finish?"

"Peter, let me explain. I was deceived. I was also on assignment. I didn't know that the temple that we raided was your father's."

"Like hell you didn't!" Peter yelled back. "Did you kill any of the students and teachers? They were my friends! MY FAMILY!"

"Peter, I didn't know . . ."

"Don't give me that! You were involved! You were there!"

"What's all the yelling about?" Annie entered Paul's study at that moment.

"Annie, stay back."

"Paul, what's going on?"

"Peter is here. He's somewhat upset."

"Peter?" Annie came forward unaware of the danger.

Peter swung around at that moment, grazing Annie with the dragon knife.

"Owww! Peter what are you doing with a knife?"

Peter's eyes became wide and frightened as he realized just what happened as he saw blood well up from the cut on Annie's arm. The cut wasn't severe, but it was enough. The knife fell to the floor with a clatter and Peter fell to his knees and wept out his anger and hatred.

"Paul, what is going on?"

"We need to talk," was all Paul stated.

Continues with part 7


	8. Chapter 8

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Part 7

"Paul, I don't understand," Annie questioned her husband after they had tucked Peter back in bed and dressed Annie's arm. "Why would Peter do this?"

"It's a long story, one that I should have shared with you, but I was sworn to secrecy."

"Paul, you know we've never kept anything from each other, why now?"

"Because what happened turned into a disaster and innocent men and children died because of it, including Peter's father."

"Please, tell me what happened," Annie coaxed her husband.

Paul did not speak for a few more minutes then let out a very deep sigh. "We had gotten a tip that there was a terrorist organization planning an attack on some major city. We were told that the group was hiding out in a temple in California. We were to meet with the informant and his group. We were told the informant's team was to lead the raid while my team was to prevent anyone from escaping. Only when the raid happened, what I saw wasn't what I was expecting." Paul's mind drifted back to that horrible day . . .

"Is your team in place?" asked a masked man who's rich voice sounded Western, but his eyes peeking through the opening of his mask said otherwise.

"Everyone is in place." Paul replied.

"Are the explosives set and ready?" Dao asked another man.

That man did not speak at first then nodded his head toward Dao.

Paul Blaisdell spoke into the walkie-talkie to his three team members while they were gathering and preparing their weapons. Dao's larger force was already in place, preparing to scale the walls of the temple.

"I will see you inside," Paul turned toward Dao. "Good luck."

Dao nodded his head but did not say a word. Only the hint of a smile came to his lips to even reveal what he was thinking.

An hour later, all hell broke loose. Guns were firing and explosions could be heard, but when it was time for Paul to enter to prevent anyone from escaping, what he saw chilled him.

"What in the world? What's going on? Where are the terrorists Dao told us about?"

Men in saffron robes and shaved heads littered the area, their bodies bleeding from countless bullet wounds.

Paul then spoke into his walkie-talkie. "Don't any of you move. Something's not right. Fall back to our second position and I'll see what's going on. Someone lied to us."

Paul walked among the dead and dying, committing every thing he saw to memory. Someone was going to pay for this. That did not disturb him so much as what he saw lying among the dead. There were children, young boys in gray gis, a few with their eyes staring upward in utter shock and horror as they died. Paul's stomach rebelled at that moment and he had to turn away at what had been done. He then felt a strong but gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You are not like the others."

Paul turned to see an old man dressed in dark robes gazing at him. The intensity of his stare bore into the mercenary, and Paul shook his head.

"No."

"You were told . . ." the old man coaxed.

"We were told that this was a nest of terrorists."

"This was a Shaolin temple, a place once filled with peace. Dao has filled it with death, revenge for his humiliation."

"What? One man did this out of revenge?" Paul questioned.

"Yes," the old priest answered.

At that moment, among the dead and rising flames, a young voice could be heard calling for someone.

"Peter!" The old priest rushed forward and as the boy passed out, the priest lifted him in his arms and carried him toward Paul. "You must take care of him."

"What? I can't do that."

"You must. You are responsible. You must take care of him."

The old priest once again stared into Paul Blaisdell's eyes. "Only you can help to ease his pain."

But Paul did not know what to do at that point. He had a mission, a mission that had gone very wrong. Instead of helping the priest, he fled. "I can't"

. . . Paul came back from those memories, tears bright in his eyes.

"For months after that day, my conscience wouldn't allow me to sleep or even eat knowing what I did. It took me nearly three years to find out the name of the kid and where he had been sent. All I had was a first name. When I finally found out where he was, I realized I needed to help. The old priest was right. It had been my responsibility just as if I had given the orders. I should have made sure that what had been said was the truth. I just hope Peter can forgive me."

"Oh Paul," Annie took her husband's hand in hers. "You are not to blame. You were deceived by a hate-filled man."

"That still doesn't make what I did right, Annie."

"So you fostered me to placate your own conscience," Peter said behind them. "I heard every word."

"Do you want the truth?" Paul stated to Peter. "In part, yes. When I learned who you were, I did think about fostering you to placate my own conscience. But that changed after I had a chance to get to know you. I didn't know your father, but from what I have seen so far, there is a lot of good in you. I know you've been very angry at what happened. And I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth earlier. I don't blame you for hating me, but please, Peter, think about what you almost did tonight. You almost did the very thing that Dao did that night, commit murder out of revenge. What were you going to do afterward?"

Peter bowed his head in shame, almost afraid to tell just what it was he felt so strongly.

"Find all the men responsible for killing my friends and my father until I found Master Dao. And after I was through avenging my father, I was going to go to his gravesite and I was going to end my life," he said quietly.

"Peter, you know there can be no love in a heart filled with vengeance," Annie stated.

"I know. I miss my father so much. Master Dao took everything away from me."

"But here you have a second chance. Perhaps Master Dao will come to know justice some day."

"I hope so, but I made a vow at my father's grave."

"Peter, why don't you try turning that vow into doing good and seeing justice done, use that anger constructively instead of taking revenge. I think your father would be proud of you if you did."

Peter gave a sheepish grin, "Perhaps you're right. Hey maybe I can become a cop, if I can't be a priest."

"Please, I think one cop in the family is enough," Annie stated closing the subject.

Continues with Epilogue


	9. Chapter 9

A Vengeful Heart Sees No Love

By Alisa Joaquin

Epilogue

Two months went by and the relationship between Peter and the Blaisdells showed a marked improvement. After the incident with the knife, Peter confessed to Paul regarding the incident with the neighbor kid. Though Paul still grounded Peter for fighting, the restriction placed on watching television had been lifted. Peter was still required to attend the special classes in order for him to catch up to attend High School as a freshman.

It wasn't long until Peter was taking the first in the series of GATs. Each test consisted of several parts, true or false questions, multiple choice, and finally an essay section. It would be another two weeks before they would receive word on how Peter did on the tests.

Peter would go to the mailbox each day hoping that the envelope would arrive from the testing board. Finally, that day did arrive. Peter rushed into Paul's study carrying the large manila envelope that contained the results of the tests.

"It's here," Peter declared, and handed the envelope to Paul.

"I thought you'd have that torn open by now," Paul stated while still working on the folder that was sitting in front of him.

"I'm too nervous. What if I failed? Maybe you could look at it for me?"

Paul took the envelope from Peter. "You know there is no reason for you to be nervous. You worked really hard in your classes."

"I know, but . . ."

"But you just want to be certain everything is going to be all right."

"Well, yeah."

Paul opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper containing Peter's scores. He scrutinized the sheet for several seconds letting it stretch into a few minutes.

"So, how did I do?"

"Hmmm? Oh, you passed."

"I passed? Is that it?" Peter questioned.

"Well . . ."

"Let me see." Peter snatched the sheet from Paul's hands and began reading the scores. His eyes became wide and a huge grin spread across his face. He then turned toward Paul. "What do you mean I passed. I did more than just passed, but what does it mean?"

"It means that you will be attending High School, not as a freshman, but as a sophomore."

"YES!"

"Just remember, what I told you. You are still on probation because of the knife incident. We've kept that between the three of us. The social worker will be coming tomorrow to check on your progress here. It's been almost four months. It's up to you if you want to continue to stay here."

"Paul, you know I want to," Peter started to say, his face all a glow. "And I'm really sorry for hurting Mom."

"Mom?"

"Yeah, I mean, is it okay if I call her Mom? I never knew my mother. She died when I was two, and well, Annie seems to like it and . . ."

A smile formed on Paul's lips, "Yes, you can call Annie, Mom. So long as I can call you Son once in a while."

An equally large grin formed on Peter's face as he stated, "It's a deal."

"Now get out of here so I can get some work done."

"Yes sir. I think I'll go show Annie, I mean Mom, my test scores."

Paul watched as Peter quickly left his study, a whirlwind of excitement. Peter certainly was going to be a handful, a tiger by the tale, the social worker had said. 'Nah,' Paul thought. But it was only the beginning.

End


End file.
